


You're In My Way

by Nordyr



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Frat Boy Clarke Griffin, Lots of tequila, lexa is awkward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-09-20 18:57:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9507650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nordyr/pseuds/Nordyr
Summary: Lexa just wants to get a drink, but a particular blonde girl is standing in her way.Literally.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Don't take this too seriously, I wrote it in one go and my nights out tend to inspire me to write the dumbest things.

The club is buzzing, the bass drumming loudly through Lexa’s body. Anya and Echo are dancing without a care in the world and Lexa fiddles around in her pocket for change. Clubs have never really been her type of scenery, but she’s not finding it as suffocating as before. She’s almost enjoying it. 

Almost. 

 

Anya catches her eyes and Lexa motions that she’s going to get something to drink. Perhaps a shot of something strong is all she needs to loosen up that little bit more and make this night a little more enjoyable.

 

 

She navigates her way to the bar, dodging the movement of dancing bodies and trying not to step in puddles of spilled beer.

She nears the bar and looks up. Up until now she had been able to step around most groups that were in her way, but this one’s an exception.

Her path is blocked.

The bar is right there, the bartender carelessly washing shot glasses and she’s so close to getting her drink.

Perhaps if she had already had one, she would have the courage to just push through this group. They are, after all, standing in a very inconvenient spot for anyone who is trying to reach the bar. 

 

She contemplates it for a second, standing awkwardly behind a blonde haired girl with a snapback and hoping that someone of the group will notice and let her through.

They don’t.

She glances around to try and find another route to the bar but finds none, and for the shortest moment she looks back at Anya and Echo, considering to just give up on her drink and make her way back to them.

But that’s ridiculous, she tells herself.

She’s not going to be restricted by some random group of people that have chosen the most terrible spot to stand in.

She tenses her jaw and tries to decide if she should say something (or technically yell something, since the music’s way too loud), or alert the girl that's standing between her and her drink of her presence by touch.

 

Unintentionally, she does both. 

 

In a poor attempt to squeeze past the girl without seeming too rude, her hand accidentally brushes against the back of the blonde’s thigh in a way it’s not supposed to, who immediately turns around at the feeling of someone behind her.

Lexa’s eyes go wide and she raises her hands in defense, feeling unfairly guilty about pushing herself behind the girl.

“Sorry!” she shouts over the music, and the girl’s startled expression turns into a smile. 

A really beautiful smile, Lexa notes.

The girl’s friends have their eyes on Lexa as well, but Lexa doesn’t look at them. She gives the blonde an apologetic smile and makes her way over to the bar.

 

 

For some reason, her heart is pounding and she thinks that was way too much of a hassle to get her drink.

She orders and the bartender nods as he goes to get her drink.

 

“Lexa?”

She turns to the group that she had just pushed through and finds Lincoln’s friendly face looking at her. He has an arm around a pretty brunette next to him.

“Lincoln.”

He smiles and she returns it. 

“This is Octavia,” he shouts over the music, and Lexa gives the brunette a friendly nod, remembering how Lincoln had told her of his girlfriend.

She finally roams her eyes over the other faces of the group. There’s another girl with brown hair leaning against the bar with a smug look on her face, and two guys, one of which is wearing goggles for some reason that Lexa can’t figure out. 

There’s another young man standing next to Octavia with the same dark hair, and he flicks his hand against the cap of the blonde next to him. The girl gives him a jokingly annoyed look and Lexa’s eyes fall on her last.

Oh, right. And there’s her.

The corner of her mouth tugs up but she decides she’s made a fool of herself enough and turns towards the bar where the bartender places her drink in front of her.

 

 

“Didn’t take you for a tequila girl.”

Lexa’s eyes shoot up to the blonde that’s taken a seat next to her. 

She wants to smile, but instead her brow furrows and she shrugs. “Why not?” Lexa replies.

The girl smirks and leans forward to Lexa’s ear to be heard better over the music. “Most people would just push past someone without a second glance. You were apologizing over the brush of a hand,” she laughs. “I just figured you’d be someone who sticks to wine or something.”

“Wine?” Lexa echoes. She likes wine, but it’s definitely not what she’d order in a club at 1am on a night out. 

“Yeah,” the girl replies. “’Cause it’s classy.”

Lexa quirks an eyebrow. “You think I’m classy?” she asks, laughing.

The girl nods her head with a shrug of her shoulders like it’s something she had carefully contemplated.

Lexa just laughs and licks the inside of her wrist before taking the salt shaker from the bar and pouring some salt on her skin. She feels the girl’s eyes following her movement and tries to ignore the warm feeling that settles in her stomach.

Within a few seconds, she licks the salt, downs the shot and bites off the lemon with only the slightest twitch of her face. The girl next to her is still watching her with some sort of smile and Lexa can’t help the way the corner of her mouth lifts.

“Do another one with me,” the blonde says and Lexa nods. 

This wasn’t the plan; she was going to get just one drink and make this club feel a little less suffocating, maybe have a dance with Anya and Echo.

But within moments two shots are lined up in front of them, and the girl is already pouring salt on a moistened side of her hand. 

“Come on Lexa, hold out your hand,” the girl encourages her with a bright smile, holding the salt shaker ready. Lexa startles for a moment at the use of her name, but then realizes Lincoln had mentioned it. She licks her wrist once more before extending her arm.

Their empty shot glasses slam onto the bar at the same time, and Lexa barely notices the burn down her chest as she watches the girl bite into the lemon.

“I’m Clarke, by the way,” the girl says and Lexa smiles.

She glances over Clarke’s shoulder and sees the girl’s friends have migrated to the dance floor. 

“Do you want to dance?” Lexa asks her, and she convinces herself it’s not considered awkward when both their friends are already on the dance floor as well.

Clarke looks over her shoulder at the crowd and bites her lip.

“Sure,” she says eventually, and smiles at Lexa as she grabs her hand and tugs her through the mass of bodies.

 

 

Her hand is soft, like, _incredibly_ soft and suddenly the nerves in Lexa’s own hand seem to have increased in sensitivity in an attempt to fully capture the feeling of the other girl’s warm hand.

 

They dance to the typical remixes of well-known songs and every now and then Clarke is shouting along with the lyrics, causing Lexa to bite her lip in amusement.

Gradually, Clarke moves closer to her until their bodies are only shy of touching, except for the occasional touch of hands or the press against each other as someone bumps into them.

Their movements are synchronized and in the middle of one song, the way Clarke is looking at her drives Lexa insane. For a brief moment she wonders if she’s imagining things, if she’s making a mistake, but then Clarke’s hips brush against hers and she decides - _fuck it._

 

Lexa brings her arms around the girl’s middle and presses them closer against each other, and Clarke smiles brightly like she’s been waiting for it. Their bodies move against each other and their faces are close enough for Lexa to feel Clarke’s breath on her lips.

The song switches and it’s a terrible transition, throwing their rhythm apart and Clarke chuckles as their movements still.

“Do you want another drink?” Clarke asks in Lexa’s ear and her arms let go as she nods, because her mouth is dry and she should probably drink something to get rid of it.

 

 

What she didn’t expect was for Clarke to order two more tequila shots. 

Okay, maybe part of her did expect it.

Still, Lexa gulps down some water before turning to meet Clarke’s eyes. Clarke has pulled her snapback backwards and she’s standing closer than Lexa had expected, but she doesn’t mind it.

She doesn’t mind it at all.

Her eyes glance down at Clarke’s lips shortly, allowing herself a moment to admire them and wondering if they would feel just as soft as her hands had felt. 

Her gaze snaps back up when Clarke smirks and leans in closer.

“Can I do a body shot?” she asks, lips teasingly close to Lexa’s ear and Lexa’s eyes widen as something flips in her stomach.

She nods and Clarke merely nudges the side of her face against Lexa’s chin. She complies and arches her head, giving Clarke the access she asked for.

She feels Clarke’s tongue wet the skin, and Lexa’s fairly sure it’s more of a kiss than a simple lick to ready it for the salt. Clarke’s lips brush over the moistened area as she pulls back.

Her eyes find Lexa’s blown pupils and she pushes Lexa further against the bar, sprinkling a line of salt on the curve of her neck.

Clarke then stares at Lexa expectantly, quirking an eyebrow.

_Oh, right._

She reaches for the slice of lemon and holds it between her teeth. Clarke smiles and Lexa tries not to gasp at the feeling of her tongue against her skin once more. This time Clarke sucks, leaving Lexa’s pulse throbbing in her throat and in a dozen other places of her body. 

Clarke maintains eye contact as she reaches for the shot glass behind Lexa and downs it. She slams it back down on the bar and stays pressed up against Lexa. She leans in to take the lemon from Lexa’s mouth, letting their lips brush only slightly and leaving Lexa to watch her breathlessly.

 

Only two seconds later, the lemon is out of Clarke’s mouth and Lexa crashes their lips together. They taste of salt and lemon and the distinctly harsh bite of alcohol, and Lexa sighs into the kiss because Clarke’s lips really are as soft as she imagined them to be.

 

Their tongues meet expertly in between the sucking and nibbling of each other’s lips, heads leaning sideways in desperate attempts to deepen the kiss even further.

Their bodies press together and the soft moans can’t be heard over the loud music, but they vibrate against the other’s mouth. The kiss is hungry and Lexa can’t remember the last time she felt this aroused, and she fears she might have forgotten how she’s supposed to take it from here.

They break apart for air, still leaving the occasional nibble on the side of a mouth or along a jaw. 

“So are you gonna ask me if I’m coming home with you?” Clarke chuckles into her ear and Lexa bites her own swollen lip.

“I thought that was your line?” 

 

 

Lexa ignores the way Anya’s eyebrow rises when she says she’s leaving. 

Lincoln merely chuckles as Clarke hastily says goodbye to her friends.

 

* * *

 

Clarke's apartment is colorful, Lexa notices. It’s not necessarily messy, but it’s lively and when her eyes fall on a half-finished painting she realizes why Clarke’s hands felt so soft.

They’re delicate.

 

 

Clarke pushes her into her bedroom, jackets already shrugged off in the hallway and hands clawing at shirts. The desperate sounds coming from their mouths are no longer drowned out by music and every gasp from Clarke’s mouth sets Lexa’s insides on fire. 

Shirts are tossed and Lexa pulls back for a short moment, realizing what is happening, but then Clarke presses their bare skin together and reaches for the clasp of her bra with a silent question in her eyes and just like that Lexa is caught up in a haze of desire again.

Lexa’s bra slides down her arms and Clarke moves to take off her own. Lexa’s mouth is immediately back to dry and she tries not to gasp at the look of Clarke’s exposed breasts - she does at the feel of them against her own.

 

They stumble against the wall, through the room and eventually make it into bed. Their need for each other seems extreme, like the tension has been building up for so much longer than they’ve actually known each other. Clarke sighs into Lexa’s mouth and her muddled thoughts wonder if she’s ever felt Clarke's breath like that before - because she could swear she has _missed_ it.

 

The heat doesn’t die down and neither does their passion. Every now and then blue eyes meet green ones, sending up a spark of recognition, of connection, but neither can place their finger on it and they just assume it’s because of the hunger in their eyes.

 

Clarke’s hands were soft in Lexa’s own, they’re soft against her skin even when they send sparks of electricity through her, but they’re also persistent as they find their way into Lexa. She gasps at the feeling, and for some reason Clarke keeps placing the sweetest kisses on her lips that feel so out of place, but so natural.

The way Lexa whispers, “Clarke,” feels natural as well.

Clarke’s voice had been low and husky, but gradually her soft sighs make way for louder moans with a higher pitch and Lexa’s heart swells at her sounds of pleasure.

 

 

Whereas Lexa normally closes her eyes tightly when she comes undone and sees the brightest stars, she finds Clarke’s eyes instead and swears she can still see them.

 

Clarke moans out Lexa’s name accompanied by a loud slur of curse words when she comes and Lexa works her over three more times, just to hear it again.

 

* * *

 

Her body is flushed under the covers and Lexa wonders if she should leave, if it really is her place to stay in Clarke's bed if Clarke wanted nothing more from her than a good release. 

But the blonde smiles at her, and it’s different from the smirks she had given earlier - it’s sweet and warm, and Lexa feels the same smile tug on her own lips as Clarke moves closer to cuddle into her.

 

Clarke falls asleep to the feeling of Lexa’s bare skin against her.

And Lexa silently thanks her for standing in the most inconvenient spot in front of the bar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested: the morning after.
> 
> I hope it will be to your liking :)

Lexa wakes up with a dry mouth but no headache and the feeling of a warm, heavy arm slumped over her stomach. With much reluctance she opens her eyes, forcing herself to find her phone or an alarm clock and check the time. The bedroom curtains only let through half of the daylight and as her eyes come to focus on the girl next to her, she forgets about checking the time entirely.

Clarke’s hair is messily draped over the side of her shoulder, tips of it tickling softly against patches of Lexa’s arm. Her expression is soft in sleep - innocent but not untroubled, and Lexa can’t help but want to kiss the shadow of that frown away. She breathes softly in her sleep and Lexa watches the faint beating of Clarke’s pulse underneath a faded red mark Lexa left on her neck.

She wonders how many more strangers have left their marks on her. 

Clarke is beautiful and smart and a very smooth talker, and for some reason Lexa’s chest constricts when she realizes she might’ve been just another one to warm her bed. 

And that maybe she really should leave before Clarke wakes.

 

The blonde’s eyes open as if she can feel Lexa’s gaze on her.

For a moment they both stay quiet and Lexa’s unsure about what to say, for it might determine the rest of their morning.

Clarke’s eyes watch hers intently and a warm feeling settles in Lexa’s stomach that has nothing to do with the slight nervousness she was feeling only moments ago.

Eventually, Clarke smiles. She smiles and it’s a sincere look of happiness; of a content moment. She smiles and Lexa’s own mouth tugs up.

“Hi,” Clarke whispers as if anything too loud might break this peaceful bubble that they’ve woken up in.

“Hey,” Lexa mumbles in response and the arm around her middle tightens shortly before retracting a little, like Clarke made up her mind or is afraid of giving away too much.

After a long moment of silence and a quick replay of what had happened, Lexa takes a breath and steadies herself to say the words she doesn’t want to speak. “I should probably go,” she muses.

“Or you could stay,” Clarke responds a little too quickly. “I mean - only if you want, of course.”

Lexa’s mind is twisting over itself while trying to think. She’s not sure if that’s an invitation for morning sex, or whether Clarke would simply like for her to hang around a little longer. 

Either way, Lexa realizes, she wouldn’t mind.

“Do you want me to?” she inquires carefully, just to be sure.

Clarke smirks, although the sweetness in her eyes makes it seem more like a cute smile. “I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t.”

Lexa casts her gaze down for a moment to hide the joy that flickers behind her eyes. She readjusts her position under the bed covers, stroking her fingers down Clarke’s arm that is still in reach.

Clarke smiles softly once more and smoothly intertwines her fingers with Lexa’s. A small frown creases the blonde’s forehead. “Should I go… make breakfast, or something?”

Lexa can’t help the soft chuckle that escapes her at the uncertainty in Clarke’s voice. “Are you telling me you’re not an expert on the whole morning-after thing?” she asks her with a grin.

Clarke’s mouth drops a little in feigned offense. “Are you saying you expected me to be well experienced with one-night stands?”

Lexa raises an eyebrow. “So now I’m a one-night stand?”

They both chuckle and it’s really something odd to laugh about, because neither have really confirmed or denied what last night meant to them.

Still, the way Clarke looks at her and holds onto her hand like it’ll stop Lexa from ever leaving her bed, convinces Lexa there’s something more here. There’s something more and Lexa’s ears burn with the realization.

“Seriously though. Are you hungry or anything?” Clarke asks her with the hint of a concerned frown and Lexa smiles. She shakes her head gently. 

“I’m fine just staying here. But if you want to have breakfast, I won’t complain.” 

Clarke smiles again and runs her eyes over Lexa’s face as if trying to memorize it. For a moment Lexa thinks Clarke is going to kiss her again and roll their naked bodies back on top of each other, but instead Clarke’s gaze flickers back to hers and holds it as if trying to read into the greenness of Lexa’s eyes.

“Maybe later,” she mumbles with half a smile. Reaching for the nightstand next to the bed, Clarke pulls out two small, unopened water bottles and hands one to Lexa who replies with a grateful thanks at the prospect of getting rid of the dryness in her mouth. 

After taking a few large gulps, Lexa places the bottle next to the bed and slightly props herself up against the headboard. She takes a deep breath and stretches her limbs, feeling the strain in her neck and the rest of her body. She’s not feeling hung-over, thank God, but still her body feels tired from the night before. 

Clarke chuckles. “Not used to late nights out?”

Lexa lets the half embarrassed smile paint her cheeks. Truth is, she’s not. Not anymore. It had been a while since she had gone out and even longer since she ended up spending the night with someone. She shakes her head. “How’d you figure?”

“Like I told you,” Clarke mumbles, pushing herself up and pressing her lips against the skin of Lexa’s bare shoulder, “you’re classy.”

Lexa can’t help but laugh at her insistence. “I don’t know, Clarke… I remember very well letting you lick salt off my skin before jumping at the chance to go home with you. Does that really make me that fancy?”

Clarke is quiet for a while, her lips still resting against the other girl’s shoulder, and Lexa suddenly fears she said something wrong. 

“I usually don’t, you know,” Clarke breaks the silence.

“What?” 

“Take someone home,” she explains. “Sleep with them… Not before a few dates, at least.”

“Oh.”

_Oh._

There’s a spark in Lexa’s heart, a subtle hope that maybe - _just maybe_ \- this whole connection meant as much to Clarke as it meant to her. Maybe that odd, warm sensation that exploded through Lexa’s veins every time Clarke touched her meant that this had been about more than just sex. Maybe it meant that Clarke could feel it, too.

Clarke crawls on top of her, straddling her thighs and placing her face in the crook of Lexa’s neck.

“But it’s different,” Clarke says as if thinking out loud.

“It’s different?”

“Yeah, it’s… I don’t know. It just feels different with you.” 

Again, Lexa’s mind goes: _oh._ She’s torn between what she wants to believe - wants to believe _so badly_ \- and what her rational thoughts are telling her.

Clarke wraps her arms around her middle and Lexa desperately hopes that her rational thoughts are wrong - that Clarke hadn’t just made an exception for her based on the sexual tension between them and the tequila induced haziness.

The blonde’s lips press against the skin of her neck and Lexa sighs, returning the embrace by moving her arms to hold the girl closer to her. Because that’s all she really wants right now - to keep Clarke close to her. She chastises herself for the feeling, knowing all too well she will have to let her go sooner or later. 

Clarke’s mouth trails kisses along Lexa’s jaw until she finds the curve of lips and captures them in a slow, lingering kiss. Their bare skin presses together and Lexa’s breath hitches. Clarke is warm and soft and feeling her so close does weird things to Lexa’s chest; makes her feel safe and causes her lower lip to tremble for no specific reason. It has been long since Lexa has let herself enjoy another one’s simple touch, and somehow this feels more intimate than the mind-blowing sex they had the night before.

She sighs once more, her head gently resting against the headboard. Clarke looks at her and at seeing the blackness in Lexa’s eyes, her own pupils dilate in response.

They sit like that for a while longer, exchanging kisses that are no longer laced with the headiness of alcohol but with their unspoken feelings. Eventually Clarke slowly starts grinding into her, and Lexa rolls them over, flat onto the bed again. This time it’s slower and gentler than the night before, as if they’re both more aware of what they’re sharing. 

They breathe their releases into each other’s skin and when Clarke looks at her like she’s the universe, Lexa allows herself to think that all this means something to Clarke, too.

She presses a kiss between the blonde’s eyes, then another one against her brow. 

“Hey,” Clarke whispers, a small frown creasing the spot Lexa’s kiss lingered only moments ago, “we haven’t… met before or anything, right?”

Lexa smiles. She doesn’t know why, but she smiles. “Not that I know of,” she answers, cuddling into Clarke’s side. “Besides, if we had, then you would definitely remember me. I’m quite unforgettable in bed, you know.”

Clarke swats at her shoulder, laughing. “That’s not what I meant… but yeah.”

 

* * *

 

When Clarke picks a large hoodie from her closet and throws it at her, Lexa doesn’t hesitate to put it on. She convinces herself that her own t-shirt wouldn’t be enough to cover the morning’s coolness anyway. The fact that it’s Clarke’s and Lexa has the urge to snuggle further into the warm fabric, has nothing to do with the reason she accepted it.

 

 

Lexa follows Clarke into the kitchen and the blonde wastes no time in making coffee. Lexa sips her drink, pitch black, and watches over the rim with curious eyes as Clarke throws three sugar cubes into her own cup. The blonde then moves over to her laptop on a table in the room and puts on some sort of lofi hip-hop stream that plays through the connected stereo set. It’s nice and easy and Lexa is amazed at Clarke’s ability to make this morning carefree and surprisingly less awkward than she had expected.

Lexa sips her coffee again, trying to figure out how she’s supposed to know when the appropriate time would be to leave. Because she should leave, at some point. She has to keep telling herself that.

 

“So you know Lincoln?” Clarke sits down next to her at the kitchen island.

Lexa nods. “Co-worker. He’s the head of security at the company I work for.” She catches Clarke’s sparkling blue eyes and has to look away to avoid a wide grin from spreading over her face. “You know him too?”

Clarke smiles in confirmation. “His girlfriend Octavia is a friend of mine. Met in college, shared a room. Lincoln’s a nice guy and he often tags along when we go out with a bunch of friends.”

“Yeah,” Lexa mumbles with a chuckle, “I noticed.”

Clarke narrows her eyes as if trying to figure out whether there was something more behind that answer. Lexa catches her gaze and bites her lower lip in a smile. “You know, you guys should really pick better spots to hang around in clubs.”

“Hm? How do you mean?”

Lexa chuckles, this time fully. “You were literally standing in the most inconvenient spot for anyone trying to reach the bar.”

Clarke’s cheeks are painted with dimples from her smile and her voice turns mocking. “Well, you know. Apparently we had mutual friends, but since they weren’t making an effort to introduce us, I decided to take matters into my own hands and blocked your way.”

Lexa laughs at her explanation, causing Clarke to quiet down in her own chuckle after a while and merely watch Lexa with wonder.

The blonde sucks her lower lip into her mouth and averts her eyes. “No, but seriously. I wasn’t really aware of it, to be honest… But I guess it worked out okay.”

Lexa can’t get the smile to leave her face and she wonders how long it’s been since someone put it there. “I guess,” she mumbles in response and curses the way her body seems to be set on betraying her, sending a blush up to her ears. 

Lexa finishes her coffee and decides that now is as good a time as any to say something. She inhales a trembling breath and hopes it isn’t audible to the blonde sitting next to her. “I was thinking… Maybe we could do this again next week?”

Clarke raises an eyebrow carefully and studies her eyes. 

Realizing how that sounded, Lexa immediately decides to explain further, hoping nothing stupid will come out of her mouth. “I mean, go out. Not just drinks at a club but, like, to dinner or something.”

Clarke smiles at her and for a moment Lexa isn’t sure whether that’s a good sign or just plain amusement. 

“If you’d rather not, then that is understandable and I won’t-”

“I’d love to.”

At the sound of her voice and the gentle honesty in her answer, Lexa finds the courage to look her straight in the eyes. Clarke still has the softest expression on her face and she nods as if trying to answer the question in Lexa’s gaze.

Lexa grins and averts her eyes again, trying not to let the excitement overtake her. She searches for a topic to avoid the silence and to stop herself from smiling like a giddy fool.

“You’re an artist?” she asks, gaze falling on a large canvas on the wall and remembering the art supplies she had seen in the living room.

Clarke shrugs and Lexa would almost call her smile shy. “I paint sometimes.”

Clarke glances over the canvas on the wall as if rounding up the courage to continue and Lexa patiently waits.

“You know, a gallery is actually showing some of my work tonight… If you want, you should come.”

Lexa smiles. “I’d like that.” She averts her gaze back down again, eyeing the bottom of her coffee cup. “Then I should also probably go home to take a shower and put on some proper clothes for tonight.”

Clarke chuckles. “You should.” 

Lexa bites her lip and searches around the table before her eyes fall on a notebook. With a pen lying nearby, she writes down her number and pushes it towards Clarke. 

“Just text me with the address and time, and I’ll make sure I’ll be there.”

“You know, you also just could’ve asked for my phone and put your number in my contacts,” Clarke tells her, motioning towards her phone lying next to her on the table.

Lexa shrugs. “I know, but I like it better the classic way.”

“Mhm,” Clarke mumbles with a smile as Lexa stands up, “’Cause you’re classy.”

“Exactly.”

Lexa finds her shoes and puts them on before slowly making her way towards the front door, picking up her jacket from where it had been thrown down the night before.

“Oh.” She turns back towards Clarke who has turned in her seat, watching her go. “Your sweater.” Lexa moves to take it off, but is stopped by the blonde’s voice.

“It’s okay, you can give it back tonight. Or next week, in case you want to wear it during our dinner.”

Lexa grins and Clarke moves towards her, closing the distance. 

“Thank you,” Lexa tells her. 

Clarke merely smiles and kisses her again like it’s their first time - and every second of it is still as blissful as before.

“I’ll see you tonight?” Clarke asks her and Lexa nods, the prospect making her feel a little better, knowing she will get to see Clarke again.

Knowing that Clarke wants to see her again, too.


End file.
